otto wrote:
I was in the Bodleian doing an essay and ogling the girls, which is what it's there for, and I had this hottie in the booth next to me, I'd been giving her the eye all day across my piles of books, and I was just summoning the courage to offer her a polo when this really high-pitched and smelly fart squeaked out. The whole classics reading room heard. I offered her a polo anyway but she turned it down.

It was because of the tension that lasted too long. Your stomach couldn't stand it anymore and just screamed: "MAKE A MOVE!" in a way.